Scooby-Noir
by Opie Lives
Summary: Velma, all grown up and a successful author, runs into her old pals Shaggy and Scooby while on vacation. An emergency phone call and a mysterious package leave Velma stuck with more Danger than clues.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The standard no owning or profiting things apply to this story

 **SCOOBY-NOIR,** **PART 1** **:** **Ghosts of the Past**

"Velma!"

A voice from the past pulled me away from the majestic mountains that had been holding my attention from the scenic overlook I was standing at. I turned and was immediately overwhelmed at the sight of two old friends barreling towards me.

"Shaggy! Scooby!" I cried, running to my two old friends who I hadn't seen in ages and hugging them both.

Scooby hadn't changed a bit; maybe he was a little heavier, but that was to be expected with his diet. Shaggy though, was caught between his childhood and running away from adulthood. His hair was longer now, and pulled back in a sloppy pony tail, and his soul patch was now a neatly trimmed beard. He was dressed in brown slacks (bell bottomed of course) over well polished shoes, a green dress shirt open at the top two buttons and showing sparse chest hair and a green sports coat tailored to cover his growing stomach.

"Jenkies, it's great to see you two." I said as we finished hugging.

"You too," Shaggy said and Scooby nodded. "I just finished reading your last book. It really made me think of the good old days."

"Thanks," I said smiling. Writing mysteries had seemed a no brainer after all the adventures we had with Fred and Daphne. "What have you two been up to?"

"Well, I'm the west coast distributor for Scooby Snack Incorporated," Shaggy said proudly. "I split time here at the Colorado offices and our San Francisco offices."

"Great for you," I said happy that he was doing what he really wanted. "I'm sure Scooby get's plenty of samples now."

"Rep!" Scooby barked, nodding his head vigorously.

"He's our top product tester," Shaggy said patting Scooby's head.

"I live in San Fran myself," I told them. "We need to get together more often."

"That's a great idea. Scooby and I were just going to lunch; why don't you join us and we can catch up?"

"That sounds like fun," I said smiling at how excited they were for lunch. Some things never change.

Lunch was fun, I hadn't seen anyone put away a quadruple decker burger with the works in a long time. How either one of them had room for dessert…

"Are you going to finish your fries?" Shaggy asked as he and Scooby hungrily eyed the french fries I had been picking at. I laughed and pushed my plate towards them.

"Thanks," Shaggy said around a mouthful of fries. His phone chimed and he swallowed down the mouthful, miraculously without choking to death, and stood up. "Sorry, it's work. Gotta take it." He sputtered, walking away.

I watched as Scooby finished the fries in one gulp, shaking my head at how little they had changed. Shaggy was still gone when the waitress returned asking about dessert and I let Scooby pick for him, ignoring the odd look from the girl.

"Scooby," a man asked as he walked up to the table, "don't tell me you finally dropped your sidekick?"

"Rope," Scooby barked shaking his head. I didn't fail to notice Scooby inching away slightly when the man patted his head.

"I'm Zeke," he said offering his hand. We shook and I was impressed with his handshake, just firm enough and his hand was slightly calloused; like he was used to physical labor but no longer did it regularly. "I'm a friend of Shaggy's. And Scooby of course."

"Velma," I said noticing the interested look in his nearly black eyes. I'm not ashamed to say I returned the look. He was ruggedly handsome, powerfully built with a nose that had been broken more than once and neatly trimmed black hair and beard, just beginning to gray.

"Velma Dinkley? The writer? Shaggy always said he knew you."

"We went to school together." I told him, strangely flattered that he recognized me. Even with five novels and two television scripts, I was usually only recognized by nerds who made my style in high school seem cool.

"Zeke, like what are you doing here; man?" Shaggy asked as he returned.

"Just grabbing a bite when I noticed Scooby here. I thought maybe he traded you in." Zeke said, flashing me a smile.

"We're a package deal," Shaggy said indignantly. I smiled back at Zeke; being separated from Scooby was always a touchy subject for Shaggy.

"I hate to leave you," Shaggy said turning to me, "but there's an emergency at our California offices and I need to fly out now."

"Rying!" Scooby yelped, covering his head with his paws.

"Sorry Pal, but I don't have time to drive and can't leave you here." Shaggy told him while rubbing his back. "Zeke, could you have someone take the van back to my place. The boss has a car on the way to pick me up."

"If I can find someone willing to be seen in that old thing," Zeke said.

"It's a classic, not old." Shaggy said, once again on the defensive. I was torn between not liking the way Zeke was picking on my friend and not laughing at the way Shaggy acted.

"You still have the van?" I asked, hoping that was the case. It would be great to see it again.

"Of course," Shaggy said proudly. "The old girl hasn't let me down yet. I just wish I could take it with me. It gets lonely being by itself too long."

"If you had treated your boyfriend like you do that clunker he'd still be around," Zeke teased him.

"Like I said, the van never let me down." Shaggy replied, looking at me nervously. It took me a few seconds to realize that Zeke had said boyfriend. Somehow I wasn't surprised, Shaggy never seemed to try to hard with girls when we were younger.

"Well I'll let you guys say goodbye," Zeke said reaching for my hand. "Maybe you'd like to have dinner tonight?" He asked me as we shook. "Since Shaggy is leaving us."

"Sure," I said as he took out a business card. "I have no plans tonight."

"Excellent," he said as he wrote on the card. "This has my number and I've included the name and address of the best restaurant in town. At least I think it is. Give me a call later and we can figure out a time."

"Okay," I said taking the card from him. "I'll see you tonight." He smiled at me and we exchanged goodbyes before he turned to say goodbye to Shaggy. While they were talking I looked at the card. It was a standard Scooby Snack Inc business card that said shipping director. Zeke's name and number were on it, and he had included The Witches Cupboard. I had been meaning to stop in that place since I had been in town, it was near my hotel and I had passed it countless times already.

"Well it was good seeing you again," Shaggy told me when Zeke had left. "But me and Scooby have a plane to catch."

"Ro Ry! Ro Ry!"Scooby yelped and tried to hide under the table.

"He hates airplanes," Shaggy said shaking his head.

"Tell you what," I said, "I'm supposed to leave tomorrow anyway. How about I drive the van back to San Francisco and take Scooby with me?"

Scooby perked up at that, and Shaggy did momentarily.

"I don't want to trouble you..."

"It's no trouble," I assured him. "I can cancel my flight. To tell the truth, I hate flying and would rather drive home. Especially if Scooby Doo is along to keep me company."

Scooby all but crawled into my lap and gave my face a big wet lick.

"I think Scooby wants to go with you then. Thanks for doing this." Shaggy said hugging me.

"I'm happy to do it. I miss you guys and this way we get to see each other sooner."

"Could you pick up a package for me? It's on my kitchen table, I haven't had time to open it."

"No problem," I said and Shaggy hugged me again. He handed me the keys to the van and his apartment and told me the address.

"Zoinks," Shaggy said looking at the time. "My car will be here any minute. Thanks again Velma. So long Pal."

"Bye Shaggy."

"Rye Rhaggy."

Scooby and I said at the same time as Shaggy ran for the door.

"Well Scooby, I guess it's up to us to finish dessert." I told him as the waitress arrived with two massive sundaes and a milkshake. I was halfway through my shake when I realized Shaggy stuck me with the check. Is it wrong for me to hope Zeke picks up the check at dinner tonight? Otherwise this was going to be the most expensive day of my trip.

I woke early the next morning, the loud snoring next to me was better than an alarm clock, and turned on my side away from the too warm body beside me.

Dinner had been a success last night and yes, Zeke did pick up the check. I was impressed with his manners, it had been awhile since anyone had pulled my chair out for me or taken my jacket; and the way he could steer a conversation. He didn't share my love for books but he had lived an interesting life and had plenty of stories to tell, a few good ones involved Shaggy and I filed those away for later. All in all, he reinforced why I prefer older men.

Best of all, he didn't push me. I did feel he had earned a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night and I returned to the hotel intent on curling up with a good book. Unfortunately Scooby had decided to take advantage of the empty bed and I only had half the room to curl up.

Scooby's snoring made up my mind and I hopped out of bed. Grabbing my glasses, I headed for the bathroom and my morning routine.

Looking at my reflection as I brushed my hair made me think of Zeke's appreciative glances last night. Amazing how growing a few inches, losing my baby fat and styling my hair to something more flattering had changed me so much. The face looking back at me was only slightly familiar to the one I remember from solving mysteries with the gang. The freckles had mostly faded and I had cheekbones now, and only one chin.

My glasses were still square, but thanks to the wonders of lasers they were a much weaker prescription and more stylish. I tugged the sweater I wore, blue not that horrid orange I used to wear, into place; smiling at how I used to be so self-conscious about the only things on me that weren't late bloomers that I had to wear baggy sweaters constantly.

Scooby was up when I left the bathroom, and looked like he needed to go take care of his morning routine. So I pulled boots on over my black jeans, and grabbed a light jacket against the morning chill, and barely had the door open before Scooby pushed through it.

We arrived at Shaggy's building by ten thirty, and I was amazed at the condition the old van was in. Outside it looked the same, even had the same "Mystery Machine" letters as it did when we were young. Inside, it was obvious Shaggy had put some money into it. The seats were soft and comfortable, without the odd spring pushing into you. The carpet was all new, and surprisingly clean, further evidence of the care he put into maintaining it. It even had a state of the art sound system, though I quickly grew tired of Sonny and Cher and vowed to hook my iPod up before we left.

The doorman recognized Scooby and waved us through. The apartment was more of what I expected from Shaggy. Messy and lived in, with enough food to feed a family of six for a year. The package was where Shaggy said it would be, a plain brown box still taped for shipment. I grabbed it and helped Scooby grab a few odds and ends he wanted to take along.

We were ready to go after a quick stop at the local Crash Burger, where Scooby seemed willing to take on their entire menu, and headed out of town. As we approached the on ramp for the freeway, an old model Buick that had been following close behind me since we left the burger place charged around the van.

It twisted as it went past, slamming into my front end and nearly pushing me into a guardrail. I panicked and slammed on the brakes, causing the back end of the van to slide into a perfect one eighty which pulled me loose from the car and sent me in the opposite direction. Car horns were blaring as I went the wrong way up the ramp. For a moment I got a view of the driver, but all I saw was a pale face with dark glasses and covered by a hoodie.

I sped up the ramp as a box truck swerved to miss me and cut the Buick off. My phone was out as I made it to the main road and I called 911. Minutes later I was directed to a shopping center where three Boulder Rock, Colorado police cars waited for me along with a blue sedan.

"This is an awfully big reception for a hit and run," I said to the detective wearing a cheap and rumpled suit after finishing with my statement.

"We were actually following you out of town," the detective said. "a patrol saw the whole thing. Unfortunately, they got away during the near pile up your escape caused. Nice driving by the way."

"Lucky driving," I told him. "Why were you following me? I've never been here before."

"It wasn't so much you we were following as that clunker you're in." He told me, eying the van. "You must know Mr. Rogers well for him to let you drive it?"

"We've known each other since we were kids," I responded to his interrogation. Alarms were going off in my mind as I realized that's exactly what was happening. It was subtle, but definitely an interrogation. "I learned to drive in this old girl. Took my driver's test in it, actually."

"So you came to town to visit Mr. Rogers?"

"No, I was here on vacation and happened to run into Shaggy and Scooby. We hadn't seen one another in years. I was booked to leave today and offered to drive Scooby and the van to California since Shaggy had to fly there for some kind of emergency."

"Why the interest in Shaggy?" I asked, hoping the direct approach worked.

"He's been under surveillance for possible connections to drug trafficking." He countered, hoping to fluster me. "What were you doing at his apartment this morning?"

"Gathering some things for Scooby. Shaggy said they'd be in California for awhile." I said, trying to picture Shaggy as a criminal. "I just can't see him being ambitious enough to be involved in the drug trade. Or brave enough for that matter."

"Leave the detective work to us Miss. Did you take anything from Mr. Roger's apartment?"

"No," I said, deciding I wouldn't mention the package to anyone until I got to the bottom of this mystery. "Just some things for Scooby, as I said."

"Okay Miss," the detective said handing me a card. "This is my number. If you think of anything let me know."

"Alright Detective," I said, "am I free to leave?"

"Yes, just be careful." He answered pointing to one of the patrol car. "We'll have eyes on you until you leave Boulder Rock jurisdiction."

He just walked away after that and he and two of the patrol cars took off. I was walking to the van when I heard my name being called.

Zeke was getting out of a cab that I noticed had arrived a few moments ago and ran over to me. He grabbed my shoulders and held me at arms length, checking me for injuries.

"I heard on the police scanner and had to come," he said after reassuring himself I wasn't dying. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," I said, wondering how he knew it was me over the scanner. Maybe I'm being paranoid and they gave a description of the van? "The Mystery Machine is a little banged up."

"That's a great name," Zeke said in a tone that I couldn't tell meant he was serious or joking. He looked at the pushed in fender and winced.

"It'll drive," I said in response to his unasked question. "It's not close to the wheel and didn't damage anything but the fender."

"They don't build them like this any more." He said in admiration. "Are you still heading home?"

"Yes, I was just about to get on the road."

"How about I ride along?" He asked, trying not to look worried. "Safety in numbers and all. And before you say anything, it's no bother. I was supposed to go to the San Fran offices this weekend anyway."

"Really, it's not necessary..." I started to argue.

"I'd feel better, you'd feel better," he interrupted, counting reasons on his fingers. "We could take turns driving, time passes quicker with conversation, I get to spend more time with you..."

"Fine," I stopped him; sensing that he could have kept going. "You can come along."

I shook my head, smiling as he gave an exaggerated fist pump. Not giving him a chance to argue, I hopped in the drivers seat and started the van. Scooby looked unhappy when Zeke got in the other side, but turned his head and lay down in the back.

"Do you need anything before we go?"

"Nope. I have a change of clothes in my briefcase," he said patting a leather satchel he placed on the floor beside him. "There's a great barbecue place by my office and I was planning on having lunch there. I always end up wearing the sauce and came to work prepared."

"You must have been a great Boy Scout," I told him as I pulled onto the road.

"I have all the eating merit badges; that's how Shaggy and I bonded."

I said nothing for a time, focused on the road and trying to reason out why the police would suspect Shaggy to be a criminal. His apartment was in a nice building, but nothing he couldn't afford with his job. A lot of money had been put into the Mystery Machine, but again, nothing he wouldn't have been able to afford. His clothes and furnishings were nothing to sound alarms either.

Having a place in Boulder Rock and San Francisco was expensive, but necessary for his job. And Shaggy had inherited some money from his uncle, easily enough to cover his standards. But that was definitely an attack earlier, and the police were following the van. Things didn't add up and I knew I wouldn't be able to let this rest until I had answers. Fred always liked to joke I would bite into a mystery like Shaggy would a sandwich.

"You're awfully quiet," Zeke said drawing me from my thoughts. I stirred, realizing that we were on the freeway now and I hadn't realized it, going on autopilot as I worked through what I knew.

"Sorry," I said, apologizing for ignoring him. "I was trying to figure out what was going on."

"What did the police have to say?"

"That's what's puzzling me," I told him frowning. Nothing made sense at the moment. "They seemed more interested in how I knew Shaggy and why I was at his apartment this morning than the hit and run."

"You were at his place this morning?" Zeke asked, suddenly seeming very interested. "Did Shaggy need you to pick something up for him?"

"No," I said a little quicker than I intended. I took a breath before continuing. "No, I just needed to get a few things for Scooby."

"Oh, the teddy bear," Zeke joked; but I could hear disappointment in his voice.

"Do you think Shaggy is involved in something he shouldn't be?" I asked, hoping Zeke would back up my thoughts.

"Shaggy?" Zeke laughed at the idea. "I would pick Scooby to be the criminal mastermind of the pair."

"Rey," Scooby huffed from the back.

"He has a point Scoob," I laughed along with Zeke. "You're not smuggling Scooby Snacks are you?"

"Rmmph," was all I heard from the back as Zeke went quiet beside me.

I dropped Zeke at the main headquarters of Scooby Snack Inc. the next morning, both of us deciding getting a couple of motel rooms for the night made more sense than arriving exhausted before sunrise. After trying to call Shaggy for the third time Scooby and I continued on to Shaggy's place, in a new building near Fisherman's Warf. I parked in Shaggy's spot in the buildings sub-level parking garage, not hiding my surprise at the obvious expense of the place.

My surprise continued as the elevator doors opened and had an honest to goodness operator, in uniform. He greeted Scooby and told me he was expecting me and pressed the floor button. I thanked him when the doors opened and Scooby and I stepped out onto Shaggy's floor.

Scooby perked up as we drew closer to the apartment; nearly running to the door and easily beating me there. His tail was thumping excitedly against the floor as I unlocked the door. He pushed through but stopped so abruptly I almost tripped over him.

The place was a mess, things thrown carelessly all over the place. The TV was even pulled from it's wall mounts and lying face down on the floor. Scooby had cautiously prowled toward what I assumed was the kitchen, his nose in the air sniffing. I followed him, the scent of blood strong enough that even I could smell it as I neared Scooby.

"Rhaggy!" I heard him yelp as he stopped, shoulders hunched. Fearfully I approached and stopped alongside Scooby. Pale bare feet were just visible on this side of the kitchen island. I walked forward and could see ankles disappearing into brown trousers. More was exposed as I continued on, a green t-shirt covered the trousers and dark red covered the floor and was soaked into the shirt.

I stopped, tears flowing freely as I saw the long hair matted with dried blood.

On the kitchen floor, beside the scattered remains of a half eaten sandwich, was Shaggy. His open eyes staring vacantly back at me.


	2. Chapter 2

**SCOOBY-NOIR: Together, Never Again**

The place was a mess, things thrown carelessly all over the place. The TV was even pulled from it's wall mounts and lying face down on the floor. Scooby had cautiously prowled toward what I assumed was the kitchen, his nose in the air sniffing. I followed him, the scent of blood strong enough that even I could smell it as I neared Scooby.

"Rhaggy!" I heard him yelp as he stopped, shoulders hunched. Fearfully I approached and stopped alongside Scooby. Pale bare feet were just visible on this side of the kitchen island. I walked forward and could see ankles disappearing into brown trousers. More was exposed as I continued on, a green t-shirt covered the trousers and dark red covered the floor and was soaked into the shirt.

I stopped, tears flowing freely as I saw the long hair matted with dried blood.

On the kitchen floor, beside the scattered remains of a half eaten sandwich, was Shaggy. His open eyes staring vacantly back at me.

It took me what seemed hours to recover and I found myself on the floor holding Scooby who was noisily crying. Numbly I reached for my phone and dialed 9-1-1.

Shaggy's apartment was now a crime scene, with the San Francisco police working it over. Scooby and I were in the spare bedroom that had been mostly untouched. I had been questioned twice already, and I cooperated since I realized I would be the prime suspect. Fortunately I had plenty of receipts to show I had just arrived in town. I gave them the card the detective in Boulder Rock had given me after telling them about the hit and run.

Now we were left alone, occasionally I could hear snippets of conversation. Burglary and gunshot being the most common words used. I sat on the bed, running the last few days through my head. The package that I had hid in my old book cabinet in the van before leaving the motel earlier had to be the key. I didn't mention it though, I needed to find out what was going on; on my own.

The door opened and my breath caught as the one officer, I both wanted to and didn't want to see, walked in. Rick Laine was a curiosity. He was big and strong, wearing a leather jacket over a white button down shirt tucked into jeans that were fitted just right and drawing attention to the large silver rodeo belt buckle. His dirty blond hair was short and messy, in a way that makes you subconsciously want to straighten it.

"Sorry you had to see this Velma," he said; his pale gray eyes looking at me with honest sympathy.

"Thanks," I muttered as I looked down so he wouldn't see my bloodshot eyes.

I had met Rick after a book signing last year when he had approached me at a cafe he had followed me to; not that he admitted that part right away. He had flashed his badge and asked to sit down. Of course I nervously said yes and he quickly worked through the normal flattery over my writing before getting to why he was there. He vividly described a hypothetical set of bank robberies and a likely pattern to them. Of course, I couldn't resist something like that and walked through what he layed out and offered some alternative ideas.

A few days later a package was delivered to me through my publisher. Inside was Rick's card and a note saying thank you paper clipped to a newspaper. When I thumbed through the paper I found a story about the police stopping a crew of bank robbers highlighted. Since then, Rick has asked my advice on several cases and I have found myself asking him procedural questions for my new book.

"I need you to verify a few things if that's okay?" He asked, sitting down next to me on the bed.

"Okay," I replied unsteadily; but raising my head to look him in the eyes.

"I'm sorry if any of this comes off as impersonal..."

"I understand," I interrupted before he kept apologizing. "If it helps catch whoever did this."

"Alright," he said pulling out a notepad. "The deceased is Norville Rogers?"

"Yes," I tell him quietly. Shaggy hated his name.

"You met him in Colorado?"

"Ran into him," I corrected. "We've known each other since middle school."

"Alright," Rick said crossing something off his notepad and writing quickly. "He was called here on business and you agreed to bring his dog to him?"

"Yeah," I said motioning to Scooby. "Scooby Doo hates flying as much as I do and I thought I could help them out."

"Scooby Doo?" Rick questioned, looking between the two of us. "You mean that was Shaggy?"

"Yes," I sniffed; not happy about the way he said was.

"Oh Velma," he muttered as he draped an arm around me. I held most of my tears back, but did duck into his offered shoulder; more to hide the tears that did come than for comfort. Too his credit, he didn't press or do anything awkward; no matter how uncomfortable he was with a crying woman.

"You don't need to be here," he said as I calmed and pulled away. "We have enough of a statement from you and plenty of proof that you weren't here when he was killed."

"Can you tell me when it happened?" I asked, hoping he would do me a favor and tell me. Yes, I slightly took advantage of him. But my friend had been murdered and I was going to find out why.

"Between midnight and three AM," Rick said smirking at me. I guess I wasn't as subtle as I thought. "And that's all you're getting out of me. Go home and rest, I can have someone drive you."

"I have a van downstairs," I told him. I had decided I was going to keep the van as long as I could. "I'm alright to drive."

"You sure?" He asked and I nodded in answer. "Okay I'll walk you to it."

He stood up and offered his hand, which I took; not failing to notice how rough it was. I'm not afraid to admit I have a type when it comes to men. Rick opened the door and Scooby and I left the room, carefully walking through the crime scene that was Shaggy's apartment.

"Detective Laine," someone called out as we left the apartment. We stopped and looked up at two uniformed officers walking toward us. One was tall and pot bellied with thick black hair while the other was a short and skinny hispanic, the two looking more like the comedy relief act from an old detective movie than real cops.

"Yes Davis?" Rick asked the larger of the two.

"Detective Hanson needs to speak to you."

"Alright," Rick said before turning to me. "You want to wait for me. I should only be a few minutes."

"I'm fine," I told him. "you get back to work. I can see myself out."

"If you're sure," Rick said as I started walking for the elevator. "I'll call you later."

"Okay," I said, "later."

Scooby and I exited the elevator, I was surprised to see no police officers around, and walked to the van. As we neared it, I could see one of the rear doors was slightly open and slowed down; grabbing Scooby by his blue collar and motioning for him to be cautious. We crept forward until we reached the side of the van and stopped. Neither one of us sensed anything out of place so I crept forward and slowly opened the van's door.

It was obvious someone had riffled through the Mystery Machine, but thankfully they hadn't found the hidden cabinets Fred and I had installed for each of us. They weren't very big but were a great place to keep our individual little treasures as we traveled. I shut the door, grateful that whoever did this had picked the lock and not forced it, when I heard Scooby growl.

I turned and saw three men running at us in black track suits and masks. Scooby yelped and crawled under the van, leaving me alone, backed up against the old van. They were frankly ridiculous looking, something out of one of our old cases, but scary enough seeing as I was all alone with them. The tallest sported a round belly and was wearing a cheap Frankenstein mask. The next was tall, but athletic looking and wearing a Wolfman mask. The other was short and skinny and wore a Dracula mask.

Dracula was the first to reach me and fell to the ground screaming, not seeing the stun gun I had pulled out; he definitely felt it though. Wolfman was on me before I could recover and grabbed me from behind. Frankenstein approached as I struggled against the one holding me, slamming his right fist into his left palm over and over.

The one holding me stiffened and let go, falling forward with Scooby biting down on his left ankle. Scooby let go, standing between me and Frankenstein, growling at the large man who suddenly started backing up. He started reaching inside of his track suit when Scooby launched at him, knocking the large man to the ground and standing over him growling.

Dracula had recovered and was helping the Wolfman to his feet when shouts rang out.

"What's going on over there!" Two uniformed policemen yelled as they left the elevator. Frankenstein used the distraction to pull away from Scooby and the three men took off toward the exit, the Wolfman being supported between the two.

I collapsed to the ground shaking, the adrenaline rush ending as quickly as it hit. Scooby came over to me and I hugged him tight as the two cops, a man and woman approached.

"You okay miss?" The woman asked as the man kept going after the three.

"Yeah," I said quietly holding onto Scooby. "Scooby stopped them."

"Good boy," she said rubbing Scooby's head as her partner returned. "No luck?"

"No, they hopped into an old Buick and took off." He said, breathing heavily from running after them. "Where are Davis and Montoya? They were supposed to be watching down here."

"No idea. I'll radio in and get the Detectives down here. You get the lady's statement."

I just groaned as I heard that, knowing I was a long way from going home.

It took another hour, but I finally got out of there and now I was pulling into the guest parking spot at my building. I climbed in the back and opened the hidden door in the paneling and retrieved the package. After quick consideration I opened Shaggy's hideaway, digging through a large number of snacks and a bong to find what I was hoping not to; several nearly empty baggies containing a powdery residue.

"Oh Shaggy," I muttered, shaking my head. "What did you get yourself into."

Scooby and I made it into my apartment and I locked and dead bolted the door. I made us a quick dinner that neither of us really touched and locked Shaggy's package in my hidden safe. The long soak in my bathtub that I was hoping would re-energize me did the exact oposite and I could barely keep my eyes open long enough to pull my pajamas on and crawl into bed next to a snoring Scooby Doo.

I woke before dawn the next morning and went through my morning routine before grabbing my phone and Shaggy's package and going to my office. I sat down at the antique writing desk I had gifted myself after getting an advance on my second novel and checked my messages. Rick had texted me to see if I was okay and to let me know he would be contacting Shaggy's family today.

I sighed, happy I would be spared that part; even though I would have to contact Fred and Daphne at some point. I texted him back to let him know I was okay.

Zeke had left me a voicemail late last night after learning about Shaggy and I knew I would have to call him back later today. Next I opened the package and dumped the contents of the box on my desk. The first thing I noticed were two mugshots, one of a nearly bald older man with a fringe of nearly orange hair and the other a pale man with shaggy black hair and huge lips.

I didn't need to read the names, I recognized them immediately. Mr. Greenway and Mr. Leech, maybe the most vicious of the criminals we had run across in our youth. Greenway nearly killed me on two separate occasions, once with a buzz saw and again with dynamite. Later, once I grew up enough to realize how close to death I had been, I had had nightmares for months about it. They had been smuggling stolen jewelry then; now I worried if they were involved in something much worse.

I thumbed through the notebook next, but it just contained dates and what sounded like code names. A Mr. Beard was the one most often mentioned. Then there were a series of photographs of Leech and Greenway at the Boulder Rock Scooby Snack factory dressed as delivery men.

Shaggy must have been compiling evidence at his office and mailing it to his place to be safe about it, I thought, trying to make sense of things. Or maybe he no longer felt safe at his office. Whichever it was, it seemed obvious that his job was part of whatever he was involved in.

I returned to the notebook. Mr. Snow also appeared pretty often and I was thinking that could refer to Greenway and/or Leech. It made sense, considering their roles in the Snow Ghost case, but that was the only connection I could find to the names listed.

The photo's occasionally showed a completely nondescript man with brown hair in the background. He looked somewhat familiar to me, but I was having trouble placing him. I checked Scooby Snack Inc.'s website, but he wasn't listed among the company's management. He was another dead end that I was sure was important somehow.

Not finding anything else I returned everything to the box and took it to my kitchen to stash it in my hidden safe. It's amazing how you can turn a decorative recess into the perfect hideaway with a piece of poster board, some tile that matches the splashing and a generic picture of fruit to cover everything.

The rest of the day was spent taking care of Scooby and working this case through in my head. Shaggy was definitely involved in something. It involved two very dangerous criminals with a background in smuggling, the Scooby Snack factory in Boulder Rock was part of it and it was big enough that the culprits had no problems attacking me with the police around. It's almost positive that it involves drug trafficking. In the old days we would just set a trap for the bad guys and they would lead us right to the important final clue that tied everything together. But this case was definitely to dangerous for that approach; and really, who did I have for backup?

Zeke called again that afternoon, rousing me from my thoughts, and he was clearly as upset as I was over Shaggy. After hanging up, I returned to the case; thinking maybe I could bring Zeke into this. He worked with Shaggy and may know more than he's letting on. Maybe he would at least know who the brown haired man was. I had agreed to have dinner with him tomorrow and decided to bring it up then.

Scooby and I ate a little better come dinner time, though neither of us were back to normal, and decided to call it an early night. Sleep didn't come easy for me, my mind was still trying to connect the evidence, and it was well after midnight before I finally fell asleep.

The sun was up by the time I woke the next morning and Scooby was well ready to take advantage of the dog park nearby. We stopped on the way home for breakfast and picked up groceries, since Scooby was starting to regain his appetite. Eventually I realized I was putting off calling Fred and Daphne and we returned to my apartment.

My first call was actually to Rick, in hopes he would tell me if he found anything new. That turned into ten minutes of him not admitting to knowing anything and grilling me on what I had learned, while also warning me to not investigate on my own.

Daphne was next, but she was out of the country on location and I had the news forwarded to her. I'm still baffled at how she was becoming one best known actresses in action movies. The acting didn't surprise me, she was always interested in a career in entertainment, but the rough and tumble roles she picks just wasn't what I expected. Last time I saw her, she had a cast on her arm from an injury she received doing a stunt.

Fred was surprisingly easy to reach. His job as a photo journalist kept him moving around as much as Daphne, but he was currently in New York finishing up an assignment. I went through all I knew with him and he promised to use his sources to look into Leech and Greenway. I did feel better after talking to him, especially when he said he would fly here in a few days once he was done in New York.

My mood improved as evening approached and I got ready to see Zeke. I fed Scooby and grabbed the photo of the brown haired man from my safe; I had decided to bring Zeke into this somewhat; before heading to the restaurant we had decided on.

I arrived first, Zeke had texted me that he was going to be late, and got us a table. I sipped the ice water the waitress brought me as I waited, trying to decide the best way to ask Zeke about Shaggy.

He arrived a few minutes after I was seated and I rose to greet him as he limped to the table. My eyes narrowed suspiciously as I noticed he was favoring his left leg, but he didn't notice as he pulled me into a hug. He held me a bit tighter than I was expecting, telling me how sorry he was over Shaggy.

We settled down to dinner, talking about Shaggy and sharing stories. His sincerity did a lot to alleviate my suspicions, but still I wasn't sure, and didn't bring up my concerns over Shaggy. Over dessert, Zeke finally approached the subject himself.

"Did the police say anything to you about Shaggy's death?" Zeke asked, reaching across the table to take my hand.

"No, just that they think it was a burglary gone wrong." I told him, which was the truth as far as I knew; though Rick seemed to doubt that.

"You don't think that cop in Boulder Rock was right; that Shaggy was involved in something?"

"I just can't picture Shaggy doing that," I said. "But we fell out of contact. You've known him more recently; do you think he could have?"

"I want to say no," Zeke said, cupping his chin in thought. "But his ex was a bit of a partier and drug him to some seedy places."

"I never thought of Shaggy dating," I said, hoping Zeke would describe the man in the picture. "What did he look like? Does he work with you guys?"

"Harrison? He always describes himself as proud and loud. Tall, skinny, blond; dresses to impress. He likes being the center of attention. I'm not sure what he does for a living, but he has to be well off since he always seemed to throw money around."

"Did Shaggy have any other friends at work?"

"I was the only one," Zeke answered with a frown. "He got along with everyone but didn't go out of his way to get to know them. I always thought it was because he was gay and was afraid of backlash."

Our conversation returned to normal things after that and Zeke's flirting took my mind off the case for a while. All to soon dessert was gone and Zeke insisted on paying again when I took my card out of my purse.

"Are you okay?" I asked him as he walked me to the cab stand, still limping.

"Yes," he said; looking away somewhat sheepishly. "I slipped on the treadmill this morning and I think I sprained something."

"And you suffered through it just to see me?" I asked, giving him a slight hug.

"I would never stand up a pretty woman."

I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek for that as my cab pulled up.

"Would you like to have lunch tomorrow?" Zeke asked, opening the cab door for me. I agreed to meet him at a fish stand at Fisherman's Warf that I frequented. He gave my hand a slight squeeze before he shut the door and I couldn't help looking back at him as the cab sped to my apartment.

I arrived home to a panic attack. My door was wide open and obviously forced. I stepped into a disaster area, everything was torn apart as though a tornado had ripped through it. The stun gun was in my hand as I ventured further inside.

"Scooby!" I called after hearing nothing from inside. "Scooby Doo! Where are you!"

I heard no response and went to look for him, gingerly stepping over the trashed remains of my belongings. My sofa was on it's back, sliced open in irregular patterns; the cushions scattered and also sliced to pieces. My shelves and cabinets were empty, everything tossed around.

A small puddle of blood stained the carpet near my bedroom. Looking around I noticed a single small hole in the wall, looking like it was made with a small caliber bullet. I tore through the place then, not caring about disturbing anything, trying to find Scooby. I finally returned to the living room after having no luck locating him.

"Velma?" I heard from behind me. I jumped, nearly scared out of my shoes, and spun around with the stun gun aimed in front of me.


	3. Chapter 3

**SCOOBY-NOIR, PART 3:** **The Last Meddle**

"Scooby!" I called after hearing nothing from inside. "Scooby Doo! Where are you!"

I heard no response and went to look for him, gingerly stepping over the trashed remains of my belongings. My sofa was on it's back, sliced open in irregular patterns; the cushions scattered and also sliced to pieces. My shelves and cabinets were empty, everything tossed around.

A small puddle of blood stained the carpet near my bedroom. Looking around I noticed a single small hole in the wall, looking like it was made with a small caliber bullet. I tore through the place then, not caring about disturbing anything, trying to find Scooby. I finally returned to the living room after having no luck locating him.

"Velma?" I heard from behind me. I jumped, nearly scared out of my shoes, and spun around with the stun gun aimed in front of me.

"Easy," Rick Laine said holding his hands out in front of him, "it's just me."

"Rick?" I sputtered before getting control of myself. "What are you doing here?"

"I just stopped by to check on you," he said looking around. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just got here." I told him as he stepped into the room. "I can't find Scooby though."

"I'm sure he's okay," Rick said walking toward me with a bad limp.

"What happened to you?" I asked suspiciously as I eyed his left leg.

"This?" He asked looking down at his leg. "Some idiot clipped me with their car this morning and kept driving. I had to fill out a hit and run report for myself."

"Seems to be the week for that," I muttered.

"What are you involved in Velma?" He asked me trying not to sound accusing.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "Things just keep happening."

"Are you sure your friend didn't have you pick up anything for him?"

"No," I said firmly. I was definitely suspicious now. That question was too direct. "I just drove Scooby and his van here for him."

"Okay," he said, not at all sounding convinced. "I'd better call this in."

He pulled his phone out and limped away, hitting a number on his speed dial. I looked in the kitchen, noticing that the picture of fruit was hanging slightly off center but nothing on the wall looked disturbed.

It turned into another long night as my apartment was now a crime scene. The questioning was a lot more intense this time as I was already under suspicion. In the end they left with the bullet they cut out of my wall, several samples of the blood and a thinly veiled warning to not withhold anything from them. Rick said he had people looking for Scooby but I had my own suspicions now and didn't do more than nod my head.

I spent a long night in a cheap hotel, anxiety and an uncomfortable mattress making sleep nearly impossible. Morning found me tired and cranky, hunched over my third cup of coffee at a nearby cafe and mindlessly nibbling on a muffin as I worked through the clues. Sadly, I had little more to work with than before; and what little I had led to more questions and no answers.

Rick called while I sat there, but I ignored it as I planned my next move. I needed more information, that was the only thing I was certain of. Boulder Rock seemed to be at the center of everything and seemed like the logical place to search for more clues. I needed to move quickly so I booked the first available flight there, which was leaving in two hours, and then called for a cab.

During the ride to the airport I remembered I was supposed to meet Zeke for lunch. I dialed him and left a message that something had come up and I would have to cancel.

The cab ride was over surprisingly quickly and I passed through airport security with no problems, which left me well over an hour to stew. I was working on coffee number five for the day when my phone began to vibrate.

"Hello," I answered after seeing it was Zeke.

"Velma," Zeke said worriedly from what sounded like his car. "Is every thing alright?"

"Not really," I said. "Someone broke into my place while we were at dinner and Scooby's missing."

"Is there any sign of him?"

"No. The police are supposed to be looking for him, but I haven't heard..." I trailed off as I remembered Rick calling me earlier.

"Velma?" Zeke's voice called in concern and I realized that I had been silent for over a minute.

"Sorry, I just remembered something." I told him as I checked my planes departure time again. I would have to call Rick from Colorado, as I would be boarding soon. "The police haven't gotten back to me yet."

"Where are you at? I'll come get you." Zeke told me as the pre-boarding announcement was made. "You don't need to be by yourself with all this happening."

"I'm at the airport right now." I said, not liking this sudden protective attitude. I've done alright on my own so far. "Heading back to Boulder Rock. I think I know what everyone is after. Look I have to go, my plane's boarding."

I hung up quickly and went through the ridiculously long boarding ritual. I really do hate flying, I didn't just tell that to Shaggy. The flight was over before I knew it and a trip through the airport and cab ride later I was back at Shaggy's apartment.

Police tape covered the door but I barely disturbed it as I used Shaggy's key to unlock the door. I wasn't surprised to find the place ransacked, I was getting used to that at this point. After a brief look through the apartment I found his office. It was as destroyed as the rest of the place, but the furniture was still in place and I sat down in his office chair at his desk.

I looked through the scattered papers but found nothing of interest, so I made a search of the desk before giving up. I sat there for a while and then hoped I'd get lucky and started feeling around under the desk. The blue memory stick I pulled out was enough of a distraction that I didn't realize I wasn't alone until someone grabbed me from behind. I struggled and tried to turn so I could see my attacker but a pillow case was pulled over my head and another set of hands grabbed me.

Like something out of the old days I was tied up and carried outside before being carelessly dumped onto the floor of some kind of large vehicle. There was a slight diesel odor as they started it up. It felt like they were purposely hitting every pothole they could as they sped along, and I knew I would be bruised up from this ride as I crashed into the floor after they hit another hole.

Not soon enough the vehicle stopped for a few moments before it continued on much slower and stopping for real soon after. The vehicle's doors opened and slammed shut. I braced myself, preparing to be manhandled again, but that never happened. Instead, I heard the muffled sound of a door closing in the distance.

Time dragged on as I lay there. At first I had tried working loose of my bonds but whoever had tied them knew what he was doing and there was only just enough slack to keep my circulation from being cut off. After that I had a slight panic attack as I realized I was on my own, no one knew where I was. I fought that down and tried to think my way out of this.

I was still alive, which meant they needed me for something. Who they were was still a mystery aside from Leech and Greenway. And possibly Mr. Nondescript from the photos.

At some point I dozed off, but awakened with a jolt when the door behind me opened. My arms and legs were stiff and beginning to cramp, tingling unmercifully as I tried to move away from the open door. Muscular arms grabbed me and pulled me from the vehicle before throwing me over equally strong shoulders.

I was carried inside and set none to gently in a wooden chair. My arms were untied and then retied to the chair arms. Finally the pillow case was pulled from my head and I blinked my eyes to adjust to the light. Someone adjusted my glasses back on my face and I found myself staring at the mysterious Mr. Beard from Shaggy's notebook, sitting at a rather nice oak desk looking at a computer screen.

He was older than when I had last seen him. Fleshier in face and body than I remembered, his hair was a steely gray rather than the brown it had been when we sent him to prison. C.L Magnus looked up from the computer with a frown and threw me a cold stare. His outfit as Red Beard's Ghost was nowhere near as intimidating as he looked here and now.

"Hello Ms. Dinkley, I'm sure this meeting is as unpleasant for you as it is for me." Magnus said still frowning as he held up the blue memory stick that had been taken from me. "This seems to be heavily password protected. You wouldn't happen to know Norville's password?"

I just glared at him in response as two men walked into view. The large, flabby form of Greenway looked almost comical next to the tiny Leech. Almost until I remembered how dangerous the pair was.

"It's no matter," Magnus continued. "We've already taken every piece of electronics Norville owned. It cost us a little to replace it all at his apartments, but it was well worth it to keep the cops off our trail."

Magnus set the memory stick on his desk and smashed it several times with a paperweight, smirking as he saw me wince at the destruction.

"I'm sure you remember Mr. Greenway and Mr. Leech. We are waiting for two other associates who just flew in from San Francisco. They had to stop by your place and retrieve Norville's package before leaving. We'll figure out how expendable you are after they get here."

"Why did you murder Shaggy?"

"Me? I'm afraid you have Mr. Leech to thank for that." Magnus answered with a sick smile. Leech waved his hand at me with an evil sneer that barely moved his thick lips.

"What did you do with Scooby?" I managed to choke out as I noticed a fresh bandage on his hand.

"The mutt," Leech muttered before continuing in his wheezy voice. "I'm pretty sure I got him too. The mutt nailed me and flew out the door, but he was bleeding."

I didn't say a word to that. I just closed my eyes, trying not to cry in front of them as I lost another friend.

"Don't feel too badly for Norville," Magnus said to fill the silence. "He was as much a part of this as anyone. He was even the one who approached me."

I just looked up at him in disbelief.

"We never expected to see each other. But I was trying to set up a new shipping business as a cover for some other activities I was involved with and he was the assistant to the local Scooby Snack distributor I was meeting with. After the meeting he asked me to lunch. Of course I was suspicious but there was something about the look in his eyes that made me say yes."

He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on his desk and took a sip before he started speaking again.

"To make a long story short, Norville told me he was tired of not getting ahead, He told me how the rest of you meddlers had headed out to successful careers while he was stuck as an assistant. Plus he was having trouble making enough money to keep up with that little coke problem he had, I didn't find out about that until later when some of our shipments were short. Thanks to you, I met my associates in prison and was able to arrange a meeting with Norville."

"We had contacts on the Mexican border which enabled us to bring whatever we wanted through." Greenway said as Magnus paused his story. "The problem was always distributing to the rest of the country."

"Norville solved that problem for us," Magnus said. "He was able to get us into the Scooby Snack warehouses to hide our shipments. Later, we used threats and influence to have him made local distributor and then West Coast distributor. At that point he could just change the shipping logs and then we were set."

"Sadly, Shaggy decided to get greedy." A familiar voice interrupted.

I wish I could say I was surprised when I turned my head to look. Nondescript was standing there with his old friend. I cursed myself as an idiot for not recognizing either of them before. Zeke had even used his actual name and now that I knew who he was I realized he didn't look much difference. Of course the last time I saw Zeke and Zeb together we had just unmasked them from their witch and zombie disguises.

"You don't look that surprised." Zeke observed with his no longer that charming smile.

"Our Ms. Dinkley has always been a clever one." Magnus told him as I kept quiet, not trusting my voice. "I see you found the package."

"Right on her kitchen counter." Zeke said holding out the box I had picked up for Shaggy. "The cops must have found it and left it out. It's really nothing too important. Some photos and a cell phone."

I started at the mention of a cell phone. That hadn't been there originally? And where was the notebook?

"It would have been easier to have just given it to me in the beginning," Zeke said, misinterpreting my expression. "Especially on you."

"Ms. Dinkley also is stubborn if I remember correctly." Magnus said with a smirk. "Now I believe I was explaining to you why Norville met his rather unfortunate end. Like Zeke said, he was getting greedy. Not only were we starting to notice product disappearing from shipments, but he was getting demanding about getting a bigger cut. So I arranged another meeting with him and he hinted that he had evidence that would send us all back to prison."

"Naturally, none of us were willing to go back to prison." Magnus continued after sipping his coffee. "So Norville had outlived his usefulness. Then it was just a matter of rounding up his so called evidence, which you were an immense help with."

"So I guess I've outlived my usefulness." I said, knowing what was coming and just trying to stall in hopes of a miracle at this point.

"Not quite yet, you still need to tell us what all you've found. Just to cover up loose ends."

I just shut my mouth, refusing to make it easy on them.

"Of course you would make this difficult," Magnus said. "Mr. Greenway was looking forward to getting reacquainted with you anyway."

Greenway began lumbering towards me, pounding his left fist into his right palm over and over; a sadistic leer directed at me. I set my jaw, knowing that this was going to hurt. But I was determined not to make a sound.

Zeke stumbled forward, hit with a shoulder from the doorway behind him. Zeb turned toward whoever it was and went down hard from a right hand that connected with his chin. Zeke recovered and turned to meet his attacker. Two left jabs hit his mouth before a right hit him in his belly, doubling him over. An angry looking Rick Laine grabbed Zeke's head in both hands and brought it down to his knee which was rising fast and hit Zeke with a sickening crunch. Zeke was on the ground next to his partner, his face a bloody mess.

Rick started forward when Greenway and Leech charged at him. Both stopped and raised their hands as Rick pulled his handgun from the shoulder holster he wore.

"Drop the gun!" Magnus roar, now standing directly in front of me with a small revolver pointed right at my chest.

A brown blur charged through the door, and Scooby Doo's mouth clamped down hard on Magnus' gun arm. Scooby pulled Magnus' arm down as the gun went off. I winced at the loud noise as the bullet harmlessly hit the floor. Scooby jerked his head forcing Magnus to drop the gun and actually flinging him away from. Scooby jumped and knocked Magnus to the floor, growling as he stood over Magnus.

"You okay Velma?" Rick asked as he motioned for Leech and Greenway to lay on the floor.

"Yeah," I said quietly, not wanting Rick to hear how emotional I was from the last minute rescue. I watched him handcuff the two before moving to Zeke and Zeb, who appeared to be out cold. He cuffed them before walking over to me.

"Everything under control Scooby?" Rick asked as he reached me.

"Rep!" Scooby barked before growling at a terrified Magnus.

"How did you find me?" I asked Rick as he pulled a knife and started cutting me free.

"It was easy," he grinned, "I knew you wouldn't leave this alone so I had you followed. So there was always someone nearby until you boarded the flight. So I contacted the Boulder Rock PD and had them watch you when they landed. Of course they dropped the ball when you were grabbed."

"Fortunately you use the same hiding spot I do so I was able to put Plan B into play." Rick kept talking as I stumbled upright to regain my circulation. "It was pretty easy really. When I was looking for Scooby I noticed these guys watching the building."

Rick nodded toward Zeb and Zeke, who were still out cold. Then I remembered the blood in my apartment and started checking Scooby.

"He's fine," Rick assured me. "The bullet just grazed his hip. I cleaned and bandaged it as soon as I found him."

"As I was saying, I noticed those guys acting suspicious and figured they'd try your apartment again and laid a trap. I sent the actual evidence you had to the Department and put some stuff of my own in it's place. Including a tracker built into an old phone housing. Fortunately I was able to pull a few strings and get my Piper Seneca in the air without any hassles and actually beat these guys here by a couple hours. Did you know Scooby hates flying? But he was pretty stubborn about coming after you and wouldn't stay behind."

"Scooby's fear of flying kind of started this thing," I said as he cuffed Magnus. Scooby came over and I hugged him, checking out the professional bandaging Rick had done. "Wait a second; you own your own plane?"

"Just an old Piper, but she does what I need her to do." He said looking at his phone. "Boulder Rock PD should be here any moment."

I didn't say anything as I had just seen the crushed memory stick on Magnus' desk.

"Oh no..." I moaned looking at the remains.

"Was that the important evidence you found?" Rick asked in concern.

"Worse," I told him. "It's the first draft and notes for my next book. I figured I was being watched and just pretended to find something. They never bothered to check if I was wearing a wire."

The detective wearing a cheap and rumpled suit led the officers that arrived after we had taken care of everything. He was as rude and condescending as I expected, and spent a half hour lecturing us on involving ourselves in his case. Of course he had no problems taking my recorded conversation with Magnus.

We were left standing around after giving statements and the detective's riveting lecture, and just watched them work over the room. Zeke, Zeb, Greenway and Leech had been led away and they were just starting to take Magnus out.

"I guess you weren't as smart as you thought you were," the detective gloated as two officers grabbed Magnus by each arm. "You didn't stand a chance of getting away with this."

"Please," Magnus laughed at the detective. "You had nothing on me. You were so focused on Norville you had no idea I even existed. That's why we finished him out of town. You would have had no leads and just closed the investigation, No detective, we had every chance. We would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for those meddling..."

I crossed the distance between us before he could finish that statement. My fist connected with his mouth with enough force to knock him to his knees, even with two police officers holding him up.

"Don't! Just Don't!" I shouted as Rick grabbed me and started dragging me away. I turned and let him lead me away from the stunned police.

"It's all different now," I said quietly as tears began to fall. Rick put his arm around me and led me away from prying eyes as the events of the past few days finally caught up to me.

Later, a cab dropped us off at the small private airfield Rick had landed at. The detective had wanted to charge me with something, but Rick had talked him out of it rather forcibly. In the end he had just told us to go, hinting that that meant get out of town, at least until the trials start. Now the two of us and Scooby were walking toward Rick's plane, though neither Scooby or I were happy with the idea of flying.

"What are you going to do now?" Rick asked me.

"I don't know," I answered truthfully. "Shaggy's parents will need help with his funeral so that should keep me busy. Then I guess I'll try to restart my book."

Rick said nothing for a moment.

"I've broken so many rules on this case that I'm not sure I want to deal with the fallout. I'm giving my resignation when I get back."

"I'm sorry Rick. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I've been dissatisfied with the force for awhile. To be honest, I'm not big on the rules." He chuckled as he looked at me. "Maybe I'll go into business for myself."

"Rick Blaine, Private Detective; it kind of sings." I told him, feeling guilty that I may have gotten him in trouble.

"You're a damned fine detective yourself," he told me. "Have you ever thought about doing the writing part time and getting back into the mystery solving business? Just think, Blaine and Dinkley Investigations."

I stopped as he said that. It was something I had been thinking of for awhile now. Writing can get boring if that's all you do. And I did miss the old adventures. I looked at Scooby, who had stopped when I had. He looked as if he was in deep thought before he nodded his head at me.

"Dinkley and Blaine works better," I told him as I began walking again. I glanced at Scooby and saw that he was following my lead. "Or maybe Dinkley, Blaine and Doo."

"We'll figure something out." Rick said as we reached his Piper. "So does that mean you're in?"

"You know Rick," I said as I took his hand so he could help me climb into the plane. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."


End file.
